Appleby Hollisheimer '27, son of Overseer Follinsby Hollisheimer '87, stepped out from his gilded dormitory into the "Yard", as Harvard lads affectionately dub their campus.

He was worried about Rita. He was sure that Solomon O'Cabot was his rival and on the fair way to be a successful one. He would ask good old John; John somehow knew about such things.

"John," said Appleby, "What do you know of love?"

"Such a question, Mr. Hollisheimer, such a question. I suppose you'll be asking me next whether I think Miss Rita Grundy is sweet on you."

"John--John--tell me." Appleby's voice was thick, his nose ran, his young face looked years older. Divisionals and g-n are hard on a growing boy.

"Don't worry, Mr. Hollisheimer. Remember she's a Grundy, and they know that love counts."

"That's right. I forgot she was French."

Yet as he sauntered slowly over to morning chapel he was still in an agony of doubt. Solomon was a bigger man than he. He had been on the Lampoon, and had been the beau ideal of Radcliffe for four years, called the waiters in the Sahara by the first names, had been in the first fifteen in the Dramatic Club.

Well, Appleby was Ivy Orator And that afternoon he was to orate as no Ivy orator had ever orated before, for Rita was to be there.

As he entered the portal of old Appleton he so loved, he heard the swish of a gown and a low growl. Appleby gave the familiar spaniel a playful kick in the ribs and turned around to face the front of Jove himself.

"Mr. Hollisheimer, I am sorry, and more sorry for your father than for yourself--"

"Sir?"

"You have failed your degree. Mr. O'Cabot has very kindly consented to take your place as Ivy Orator."

II

The same sort of magnetism that draws criminals to the scene of their crime must have drawn Appleby Hollisheimer to the steps of Memorial Hall. Inside Sanders Theatre was his class, was Rita Grundy, was Solomon O'Cabot--happy mortals all, oblivious of Appleby's existence, oblivious of all save the stirring words of Dr. Casey of the Boston Police delivering the Baccalaureate Sermon. He was carrying the Class of 1927 to a pitch of spiritual elevation which would carry them through life; some were already beginning to sob gently when--